The Strength of a Family
by MaryRoyale
Summary: Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Challenge S02R01- Family Round. The Weasley boys *all* remembered Uncle Bilius. He was a pretty memorable bloke and he left an indelible impression on all of his nephews, but in the end it was George who understood him best. Canon compliant. WARNING: Character deaths, tragedy, grief, negative coping skils. No pairing.


**The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition-SEASON 2- Round 1**

**Team:** Falmouth Falcons

**Author: **MaryRoyale

**Position:** Beater #2

**Story Prompt:** The focus this time is family roles, so your job is to pick a person who falls into the role given in your position and focus on that character in that role. Family role for Beater #2 was nephew/niece.

**Optional Prompts Used:** "Don't tell me what to do" (dialogue), stubborn (word), "Every family has bad memories" –Mario Puzo (quote)

**Title:** The Strength of a Family  
**Official Disclaimer**: The original characters of this story are the property of the J.K. Rowling. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. It is my contention that this work of fan fiction is fair use under copyright law. No monies were received for receipt of this work.

**Pairing:** None

**Rating:** T  
**Word Count:** approx. 1600

**Author's Note:** I know it says to pick a person, but Fred and George have always been a package deal. So this is mostly Fred and George. The only uncles that we know of are Fabian and Gideon Prewett (who died when they were only 3) and Bilius whose family isn't mentioned anywhere and who died at some point before the Prisoner of Azkaban. Bilius *could* be either Molly's brother or Arthur's brother. I chose to have him be Molly's brother. Also… I think this is one of the most angst-ridden stories I've ever written. Just so you know.

/\/\/\

Whenever they had family get-togethers Uncle Bilius got drunk and ended up making Mum upset. When Fred was younger he thought the red face and the tight lips meant that she was mad. As Fred grew older he realized that Mum wasn't mad. All right, fine, _George_ was the one that realized it, but if you ask Fred that's the same thing.

"Did you see her eyes?" George whispered that night in their room. "They were red and shiny. She was trying not to cry."

Fred snorted in disbelief. "Because Uncle Bilius pulled flowers out of his—"

"No," George interrupted him.

"I could see how it might make her cry with _laughter_," Fred continued.

A pillow landed with unerring accuracy on his face. "No, you prat, Mum was _sad_."

"Well that's just ridiculous," Fred huffed. He tried to peer through the darkness to see George's half of the room. "I worry about you Georgie."

"Oh shut up." Blankets rustled and Fred knew that George was turning over and giving him his back.

Fred scowled at George's back.

/\/\/\

Throughout their childhood, at every major event, Fred could remember Uncle Bilius. He was loud and funny and he made everyone laugh. Fred loved that about him. George would point out that Uncle Bilius seemed to drink an awful lot, and he would always point to the sad despair in Mum's eyes when Uncle Bilius started downing glasses of Firewhiskey. Fred wasn't a total git; he didn't like their Mum upset any more than George did. Well he didn't. Finally, when he was around nine he decided to ask Uncle Bilius why he drank and upset Mum.

It was summer and it was somebody's birthday, a great-aunt or a cousin, but Fred wasn't really sure which one. Their family was so large that it was hard to keep track of everybody unless they managed to stand out somehow like Uncle Bilius. Instead of drinking Firewhiskey Uncle Bilius was sitting under a tree by the pond, staring out across it.

"Uncle Bilius?" Fred called out. He glanced at George who shrugged.

"Uncle Bilius?" George tried.

Their uncle started and turned bleary eyes to them. He frowned for a moment. "Fabian? Gideon?"

Fred blinked in surprise.

"No, Uncle Bilius," George corrected him. "It's Fred and George."

"Oh."

"We were wondering," Fred began and looked at George for reassurance.

"Yeah," George continued for him. "Why do you…"

"Pull flowers out of my—"

"Yeah, that," George interrupted and nodded vigorously.

Bilius sucked air through his teeth and stared out at the pond a bit more. "Every family has its bad memories," he said at last. He rubbed a hand over his face and gave a small one-shouldered shrug. "I just try to give people something else to think about so they don't sit around and mope."

"It makes Mum sad." Fred could feel his face turn red when George glared at him.

Bilius nodded. "I'm sad too, Fred. That's why I do it. I don't want to sit around and mope either."

"We're sorry Uncle Bilius," George offered.

"Don't be sorry lad." Bilius shook his head. "Nothing you could've done to make anything different. Just remember this, alright boys? Life is too short. Enjoy yourself now while you've got the chance."

"Yes sir," Fred swore fervently. He could feel George nodding next to him.

/\/\/\

Bill was only ten when it happened. It was raining hard that night and he hadn't been able to sleep. He could hear Charlie's soft snores from across the room and marvelled that his little brother was able to sleep through the torrential downpour that was beating a tattoo against the Burrow's roof. He slipped out of bed and down the hall. Maybe Mum would give him a sleeping draught, or maybe a mug of steamed milk with cinnamon and nutmeg. It took Bill a moment to realize that someone was pounding on their door because the rain very nearly drowned the sound out. He could just make out his dad demanding the pass phrases, but he couldn't hear the replies. Whoever it was must have given the right answers though because Dad opened the door wide and let them in.

"Bilius!" Mum sounded surprised. "What on earth are you doing here at this hour? And in this weather?"

"Molly."

Bill had never heard such despair and sadness in just one word, but he did that night. His mum seemed to know what Uncle Bilius meant because she shook her head in denial.

"No."

"Are you sure?" Dad's voice sounded a little shaky.

"I'm sure. I was on duty." Uncle Bilius' face was ashy, but his voice was steady.

"Merlin." Dad seemed to waver for a moment until Mum threw herself in his arms and sobbed on his chest.

"Is… which…" Mum couldn't seem to form coherent sentences.

"Both of them. They went together." Bilius pulled out the most garish handkerchief Bill had ever seen and mopped his face with it.

Then Mum started crying again great heaving sobs that shook her frame. Dad tried to comfort her, but all he could really do was hold her. Bill bit his lip and then crept back to his room. He shook Charlie awake.

"What's going on?" Charlie mumbled sleepily.

"Something bad," Bill whispered.

After that night Uncle Bilius changed. He drank a lot more than Bill ever remembered him doing before, and once he started drinking he started doing weird party tricks. Most of their extended family laughed and applauded, but Bill never could. He remembered a pair of uncles who had been much sillier and more outlandish than Uncle Bilius. He remembered laughing faces and crinkled blue eyes and the way his mum would scold them while she was laughing. He remembered the still, heavy silence in the Burrow after they were gone, and he couldn't laugh at Uncle Bilius.

/\/\/\

"Fred! George!" Mum's strident tones echoed in the Burrow.

"Yes Mum?" Whenever they replied in perfect unison Mum would blink at them for a moment so whenever they were in trouble they tried to make sure they answered in unison. It was best to keep Mum on her toes, especially if they had done something that might guarantee being grounded for the rest of their natural lives.

"You two—" Mum sputtered incoherently for a moment. "You can't… what were you thinking?"

"About what Mum?" George asked with an innocent expression.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she narrowed her gaze on them.

"Leave them alone, Molly." Uncle Bilius grinned at Fred and George. "They're just boys."

Mum stood there quivering for another minute before she threw her hands up in the air and went into the sitting room muttering under breath. Fred and George stared after their mum for several long minutes and then turned to Uncle Bilius with twin expressions of awe.

"You—"

"—are amazing!"

Pain flashed in Bilius' eyes, but he chuckled and patted them on the head.

/\/\/\

"Shove off, Percy," Fred snarled.

Percy puffed up with indignation. "Well! I never!"

"That's probably part of the problem," George sneered.

"Look, I'm trying to _help_," Percy hissed.

Fred crossed his arms over his chest and he knew without looking that George had done the same. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"Things could go very badly," Percy protested. "You two need to stop this—"

"No." George was absolutely furious and he was glaring daggers at Percy.

"George!"

"Don't tell me what to do," George growled.

"Us," Fred corrected him. He turned to glare at Percy. "Don't tell _us_ what to do you poncey git."

Percy's face became mottled and he clenched and unclenched his hands. "Why are you being so _stubborn _about this?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," Fred snapped. He looked his brother up and down with an expression of disgust. "There was a time that you would have known that Percy."

Percy turned and left Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

/\/\/\

It was someone's birthday. One of the nieces or nephews, but George couldn't remember which one. He knew Bill was watching him and counting how many glasses of Firewhiskey he had drunk, but George really didn't care. Who knew? Maybe he'd have enough that he'd go out to the middle of the floor and pull flowers out of his—

"George?"

He turned and looked up at his older brother.

"Percy."

"Can I have a seat?" Percy made a vague gesture at the chair next to him.

"Suit yourself," George muttered.

"I always thought Uncle Bilius was a bit daft." Percy stared out at the group of children frolicking about in the Burrow's backyard, their shrieks of laughter drifted to them in the lazy afternoon.

George blinked. He hadn't spoken aloud… had he?

"Now though…" Percy trailed off and his shoulders slumped.

"Every family has its bad memories," George murmured more to himself than to Percy.

"Yeah."

The two of them sat in silence and watched the children play. Percy poured himself a shot of Firewhiskey and sipped at it. George noticed the frown on Bill's face when he saw Percy sitting with George. He lifted his glass in silent toast and watched the sadness fill Bill's blue eyes. His face was red and his lips were pressed tightly together. And George understood.


End file.
